


Text Me, Babe

by KittyHowell



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: AU, M/M, originally on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 04:06:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13240068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyHowell/pseuds/KittyHowell
Summary: Steve reaches shore with no one to contact, so he texts his father’s old number. It’s been six months since he deactivated the phone. He’s still surprised when someone else responds.





	Text Me, Babe

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I posted this on my tumblr and decided to bring it here. It is still unedited because I’m demotivated.

When Steve reaches shore, he pulls out his phone to text his father before freezing. He stares down at the open text and for the first time in nearly half a year, he’s forced to face the knowledge that his father is gone.

It’s been a year since his murder, a year since the son of a bitch who did it got away. A year since he was made an orphan. At that, Steve snorts. He’s in his thirties and somehow still feels like an orphan.

He thinks about texting Mary next, but the thought is quickly dismissed. He tried calling her last month to let her know he was coming home and finishing the last of his contract on base, only to discover her number had been discounted and she’d been in the wind.

Steve doesn’t have anyone else to contact. He still has some friends on the island, but none that he’s really kept in contact with. He doesn’t want to reach out to them because he doesn’t want them to feel pressured into seeing him. Or even end up pressuring himself into seeing them. He’s just not ready for that.

So he thinks about putting the phone away, but can’t. In the end, he types out, “I’m home,"and sends it to his father’s old number. He stares at it a moment, a pain welling up in his chest. That pain turns to horror that crosses over his entire body when the word ‘Read’ appears under his message.

Of course his father’s phone number belongs to someone else now. It’s been six months since he disconnected it, having decided there was no more use out of it for the investigation. He thought that it would help him move on in the end. He was wrong. And now he was regretting it more than ever.

He thinks about sending a 'sorry, wrong number’ or something else but the person doesn’t seem to be responding so he just slips his phone back in his pocket and drives to his parent’s home, pretending the pain in his chest isn’t making it difficult to breathe.

…  
Steve has been home a week before he texts his father’s number again.

It’s stupid and he knows that. His father doesn’t have the phone number, someone else does and texting them his self pity isn’t going to do anything but annoy the person.

Things on base are fine. He actually doesn’t have much to do, just paperwork and advising to new recruits. He only has a month left and then he’s home free to do whatever he wants. The Governor offered him a job on a new task force to run, but Steve’s not sure just yet whether or not he’ll accept.

He finally, finally gets a hold of Mary. He’s still mad at her for missing their dad’s funeral and for discontinuing her number without contacting him. She’s in Vegas, she says, but the number she’s calling from is a Houston area code. He says nothing about it as they catch up. He asks her if she’s coming home, and she responds immediately with, "what home?”

It pisses him off and breaks his heart all at the same time. She’s right, in a way. They are practically all they have left and they’re not close. Not really. They haven’t been close in fifteen years. Not since their dad sent them away. He knows part of it is his fault. He didn’t have to run off into the Navy. He didn’t have to become a SEAL. He didn’t need to follow the path he did, but neither did she, and it’s that thought alone that stops him from crumbling.

“Mary, I want to see you,” he says instead of all the raging thoughts in his head. “I miss you. I want to see my sister.”

There’s a pause, and then a quiet, “I can’t right now, Steve, but maybe in a couple of months.” She hangs up then, and Steve is left sitting alone in the dark, in a chair their father once sat in, in a home they were all once so happy in.

He stares down at his phone another moment before pulling up the conversation with his father’s old number. It’s stupid. He tells himself not to but he does anyway.

“Mary won’t come home. I’m not sure what to do anymore.”

It takes a moment, but the 'Read’ message appears just as before. Then, the small bubbles appear underneath his message and Steve holds his breathe. It occurs to him, briefly, that the other person might be a child. Aren’t children getting cell phones younger and younger these days?

The dots disappear, reappear, then disappear again. After a moment, Steve realizes the message isn’t coming. He turns his phone off to stop himself from doing anything else stupid.

…  
Another week goes by before he has the urge to text his father again. This time, he turns his phone off and locks it in his desk.

At the end of his work day, he grabs his phone and turns it back on, hoping maybe Mary would have contacted him but knowing she hadn’t.

His phone vibrates once, then twice, then once more. He thinks he’s getting a phone call but realizes quickly that it’s a series of text messages.

“I’m sorry I hadn’t responded before. It felt wrong to.”

Then,

“But I keep wondering if you’re okay.”

The first two messages were sent within seconds of each other, it seemed. The third one came twenty minutes later.

“You don’t have to talk to me, all right? I just need to make sure you’re okay. Send something. A letter. An emoji. The fucking bat symbol, I don’t care. Just something.”

Steve sits in his truck, staring down at the messages for a moment longer than necessary. At least the person seems like an adult and mostly not annoyed with his texting. He thinks about not responding, he really doesn’t want to. But on some level he does because this person, this random stranger, reached out.

He ends up texting back, “I’m fine.” And then ignores the buzz of his phone as he pulls out of his parking space and out of the base. It goes off again, and he pointedly ignores it until he’s in his house with the door locked behind him.

The first message just says “Okay” but the second message is much longer. It actually has Steve smiling, just a little. It reads, “No, not okay. Fine does not actually mean fine. There is a system, okay? Great, good, okay, not okay, then fine. Fine is what I got for months before my ex divorced me. The only thing worse than fine is 'fantastic’ and 'peachy’.

"Okay, I understand the peachy one, but fantastic?”

“Hey, man, everyone knows fantastic is the equivalent of piss in your Cheerios.”

Steve actually laughs. After, he isn’t sure what to say. He’s a little sad the conversation is just going to die out there when another message comes in. “In all seriousness, are you okay?”

Steve is now really sad because now he knows he has to let the conversation go. He types back, “I’m sorry to have bothered you.” and then sets his phone down.

…  
Steve is alone.

Not so much physically. There are people around him everyday, whether he’s at the beach or at work. There is always someone there but it never feels like there is.

He feels just as alone and lost as he did the day his father was murdered. He thinks…he thinks he’ll take the job the governor offered him. Full immunity and means in order to get the job done. That in itself is something to behold and hard to turn down but the fact that he can work his father’s case, well, that’s the real reason he’s planning on saying yes.

Without thinking, he takes out his phone and opens the conversation he’s been having with a stranger. “I’m going to take the job.”

This time it takes several hours before a response.

“Good for you, buddy.”

…  
Steve gets drunk.

It’s not something he’s proud of, but Cath and him decide its best to stay friends and Mary won’t take his calls and now he’s obsessing over this trunk he found in his father’s garage. It has the word 'champ’ on it. It makes no sense to him, but there’s a connection to the murder, he’s sure.

He feels even more alone than before. So he got drunk. It did not help. At all.

He manages to get home, somehow. Steve strips down to nothing and collapses in his bed, bringing his phone with him.

“Whats ur name?” He sends before he can decide it’s a bad idea. He’s not exactly the best texter when he’s drunk.

The dots appear, then disappear, then reappear again. Finally, a message comes through.“Danny. And yours?”

“Steve.” At least he manages to spell his name right, he thinks. “Who ru?” It might be a stupid question, maybe not.

“Are you drunk?” Is the reply.

Steve giggles, sends the winking emoji. He will deny this later. “Mayyyyyybe.”

“Jesus Christ, are you at least at home?”

“Ru woried?”

“No.”

Steve giggles again. “I’m home.”

Then he passes out.

…  
It’s five am on a Saturday and Steve is trying to will himself to go back to sleep when his phone goes off. Normally he would be up to take a swim and make himself some breakfast but today his limbs feel heavy and his hangover is almost too massive to open his eyes.

He reaches over, thinking its work or maybe Mary - though, he hadn’t heard from her in a while now, despite his numerous attempts. Instead, he finds it’s his father’s old number. He pauses, then sits up in bed completely to open it.

“You’re a jackass, you know.”

For a moment, Steve just stares and thinks Danny must have the wrong number but then realizes why the guys name comes to mind. “I’m sorry.” Their short conversation from the night before mocks him.

He is, too. He shouldn’t drunk text. He checks to make sure he didn’t contact Cath. He tries not to think about what it means when he realizes he didn’t or how he somehow thinks it’s more embarrassing he texted the stranger over his recent ex.

“I don’t want your apology, okay?” The first message comes quickly. The second one takes more time, “You alright?”

Steve types out the affirmative, then erases it. Danny had already called him out on his shit before. And maybe…maybe he’s not. It’s not like he’s depressed. He’s just a little sad, a little lonely, and really confused. He doesn’t text this though. He just says, “guess not.” and sends it before he can change his mind.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Steve shakes his head, but starts anyway. “My dad died. He was killed. Last year. My sister won’t come home, to Hawaii, I mean. I miss her.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You have his old number.”

There’s a long pause, and Steve thinks he really screwed up when his phone rings. His heart sinks at seeing who it is. He almost lets it go to voicemail but ends up answering at the last second.

He coughs, “Hey.”

“So, you’re Steve McGarrett?” There’s a quiet chuckle that Steve almost misses. “I should have known.”

Steve can’t breath for a second. “How do you know that?” He demands it more forcefully than he should but he can’t help it.

“I’m, uh, Detective Danny Williams. I work for HPD. About…a month ago I needed to get a new number and by some strange coincidence I ended up with your dad’s. I meant to change it but I never got around to it.”

Steve ignores the fact that that’s the approximate time he came home and sent the first message. He ignores it because that fact can go straight to Hell and back.

Steve coughs, more embarrassed than the time he fell face face into his pudding in front of Taylor Linton in the 9th grade. “Well that is…that’s something.”

“Wanna grab a coffee?”

…  
Steve doesn’t do Starbucks. He’s a simple man, really. He just wants a large black coffee with a single sugar in it. He used to crappy coffee, too, so it’s never really an issue of quality. As it turns out, Danny also does not do Starbucks, so they meet at a small shop halfway between them.

Steve refuses to admit that he’s nervous. He’s not entirely sure why he agreed to this anyway. When Danny walks in, Steve knows that it’s him but isn’t sure how. He notices the gun and badge a second later.

Danny looks around the room. When his eyes settle on Steve, they light up with something familiar. Before he knows it, Danny is in front of him.

“Steve,” Danny says, reaching forward and shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Steve clears his throat, “Back at you, buddy.”

Steve hadn’t bothered to order yet. Danny asks him what he wants and then walks up to the counter to order before Steve can take out his own wallet. Danny brings back matching coffees and scones, except his is full of cream. When Steve raises an eyebrow at the pastry in front of him, Danny shrugs. Steve grabs a sugar from the container in the center of their table, paying way more attention to it than necessary.

They sit across from his each other, their knees touching lightly under the table. Steve has some room to move, but so does Danny and neither do.

“Have you heard from Mary at all?”

Steve shakes his head, frowning into his coffee. “She lied to me about where she was the last time we spoke.” He couldn’t prove that, but his gut hadn’t failed him yet.

“She’ll find her way, I’m sure.”

Steve shrugs. “I hope so.” He really does, but hasn’t had much faith in it.

“McGarrett’s are fighters,” Danny says back, like he’s quoting it from someone. Steve is sure he knows from who. Danny asks about the new job and Steve tells him everything he knows about it.

“It’s not official,” Steve finishes, “I haven’t actually accepted the job yet. I still have a week and a half at the base.”

“Feel weird?”

“What?”

“Being home,” Danny clarifies, motioning around them. “Not being on a boat?”

“It’s a ship,” Steve says back, not being able to hide disbelief in his voice. There’s a little amusement mixed in and he thinks Danny can hear it because he shoots him a shit eating grin and steals a bit of his scone. Steve shakes his head, smiling, but then nods. “Very weird. More so than I thought.”

“Well, I hate to tell you this big guy, but, uh, that’s normal. You’re not special.”

Steve laughs, stealing a bit from Danny’s scone. It’s a bit sweet for his taste but it’s still good. “I’m pretty sure I’m special.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, before Steve moves his hands up. “Enough about me. What about you? Where are you from and what brings you to our beautiful island?”

“What makes you think I’m not from Hawaii?”

“Your tie.”

“What,” Danny asked, disbelief written over his face. “My tie? What’s wrong with my tie? This is a nice tie.”

“It is a very nice tie,” Steve agrees, trying not to smile. “But it is a tie.”

“You’re gonna have to enlighten me here.”

“It’s a tie, Danny. We’re in Hawaii. No one wears ties here.”

“I am a professional. This is what professionals wear.”

“You are a professional in Hawaii. Ditch the tie.” Steve leans over and touches it. Danny slaps his hand away. Steve grins. “So where ya from?”

“Jersey,” Danny says, touching his tie briefly where Steve had. “My ex got married to this millionaire and moved our daughter out here.”

“And you followed?”

“Some holidays and summer break just wasn’t good enough for me.”

“That is…noble, man.”

Danny shook his head. “She’s my daughter. I’d follow her to Mars.”

“You got pictures?”

He’s not really sure why he asked. He’s never been a kid person before, but Danny’s face is lighting up just thinking about her. Without saying a word, Danny reached behind him and pulls out his phone.

“Her name is Grace,” he says, and he’s smiling as he scrolls though numerous photos of a beautiful brunette.

“She’s beautiful,” Steve comments, his eyes shifting from Danny’s face to the photos. He thinks Grace isn’t the only beautiful thing he’s seeing. He clears his throat. “She looks nothing like you.”

Danny laughs, “Don’t I know it.”

The two spend two more hours talking. They talked about everything from sports and food to his father’s case and Danny’s family back in Jersey. Steve learns that Danny isn’t a big fan of Hawaii and that he might use the word ‘babe’ a little more than others. In turn, Steve opens up just a little about the trunk he found and his breakup with Cath. It’s not much, but a start.

Time flew by for Steve and for the first time since he’d been home, he felt good. He felt connected somehow to Danny. He’d tried taking to others on the base, but it was nothing like this. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt like this before.

Steve was thinking of how to keep the conversation going when Danny’s phone rang. The conversation was brief and Steve could tell it was about work. Danny looked frustrated when he hung up.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go. That was work. I caught a case.”

Steve nods. Having no reason to stay, he got up with Danny and walked to the door with him.

“Oh, um. I finally got around to changing my number,” Danny says, scratching the back of his neck. “I went this morning. I’ll text you, okay?” And then he turned and headed towards his car.

Steve nods again, his stomach hurting just a bit. What if Danny didn’t text him? Just then, his phone buzzed. Steve looked down at it and smiled. Danny waved goodbye as he drove off.

“Text you later, babe.”

Danny’s car disappeared from his sight. As he walked back to his truck, he dialed the Governor’s number. “Yes, this is Steve McGarrett. I just wanted to let you know I accept your offer. I’ve already began selecting my team. I need you to do a transfer for me. The name is Danny Williams. Detective Danny Williams.”


End file.
